Reduntant
by WickedRealm
Summary: A short story about a certain mental killer. (No actually plot at the moment but if reviewed well, I'll consider continuing (:)


Hello fellow readers (:

This is my first "Johnny the Homicidal Maniac" story. I wrote this because in my creative writing class, we were selected to choose a serial killer to write about. It could be any that we wanted and I chose the best there was!^^

It doesn't have a real plot at the moment, just short drabbles but still I hope you enjoy!~

Also look up my other story, "A Lenore Love Story." if you like Roman Dirge's Lenore the cute little dead girl.

I don't own JTHM (if I did… the things I would do…)

Well onwards…

"Redundant." I spoke serenely, "To repeat a word or phrase over and over…and over."

I laughed as I wiped the blood onto my jeans, "You think I'm redundant? That word is nonsensical."

My mouth twisted into a smirk as I gazed back at my new victim, "You know what that means, right?"

The man whimpered, "Please Nny, I'm sorry…"

"Really now?" I chuckled sarcastically, bending down to his level. "And why is that? Why now?"

He went to reply but a hard slap stopped him.

"Why not when you hit me or maybe when you tired to knock me over? Hmm?!"

"I uh…" He stuttered, completely helpless.

I smiled at the idiocy radiating from this Neanderthal yet this game was beginning to give me a head ache. "I'm waiting."

"I don't know! I just know that I'm sorry!" He screamed but it was cut short by a blade shoved into his gut. He dropped cold in front of my feet.

I sighed irritably, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I grabbed the feeble man by the collar and with one swing, threw him into the nearby dumpster located in the alley. "These people are so transparent but yet still stimulating."

The walk back to my house or 'lair' as I liked to call it was reticent but noisy.

'Why did you do that, Nny?' My conscience asked in that tiny disturbing voice of his.

"He was an ignoramus, that's why." I answered back but a little loudly as I got a few stares from civilians.

I hail from a city known as New Haven and just as naïve as the name sounds; the people were just the same. Dull, dreadful and loud, always loud. And innocent too, so honest and unstained. But of course that was a cover up for the place reeked of obscene and profanity. There were permitted where about that awake my interest but it never lasted long. A slip up here. Some bloodshed there. Accidents happen.

But I've never be caught. Not once in my eighteen years of life on this forsaken planet has the police even busted down my door and converted me to death row. That just prove how confiding these people are! That a killer, one as pristine and as immaculate as myself has never been suspected.

I am jubilant yet appalled at this vile knowledge. Beginning to accept that I will most likely never end up in jail, which is irreverent. But still, my mind is stretched to its limits and beyond trying to figure out what I'm doing… right. I'm not afraid of messing up and letting my inner demons out but how am I not punished for it?

My headache worsened as I thought about it so I decided to forget the monologue and continue with my work. Which at the moment as figuring out how to kill the mail man with the mailbox?

I groaned at the plan sheet then torn it up. My inventive mind was fading or maybe I was tired. When was the last time I slept? Monday? Last week? I didn't know but sleeping should be the last thing to be thinking about.

I held my head tightly as a way to focus but all that did was aggravate my already throbbing skull.

I sighed loudly and laid my head upon my desk, moving aside my bangs that tickled my nose. To be demise, I closed my eyes and fell unconscious.

Two days! I was asleep for two frickin' days! And worst of all, it's Sunday! The mail man doesn't come on Sunday!

I screamed into the pillow on my blood stained couch. Don't worry, the blood isn't mine. I slumped back and stared at the cracked ceiling.

My eyes stood, unmoved for quite awhile; my hand playing with a disregarded paper on the floor.

"What to do. What to do." I murmured to the air.

I finally got so bored that I picked up the paper and looked it over: big mistake.

All I saw was one word. Well, a name. _Devi_. And after that, everything was a blank.

I remember returning when the sun had started to rise, drenched in sweat and vital fluids, aka more blood. I'm not sure what I did but the news that morning cleared up the situation. I also found the small paper torn to shreds on the couch. I guess I'm not as over her as I first thought.

'You're not?' Conscience asked. "How morbid."

"It is too early for your sass!" I screamed at… I guess myself.

'What's wrong, Johnny? Tell little o' me.'

"I'm going to kill myself if you don't shut up…" I warned but knew full well suicide was ghastly.

I walked into the kitchen and noticed a corpse on the table. I hit myself in the head. "I meant to take that out! I forget that more than the trash." I chuckled.

After disposing the poor woman from maybe two weeks ago and a quick shower, I went to make myself breakfast but the door ball interrupted my plans.

My house was a boarded up disgrace with a piling paint job and a deadpan front lawn. Who would dare approach?

When I opened the lock, I almost screamed at how unpolluted the guy was.

"Good Morning! My name is Mitch Rodman with Rodman's Real Estate!" The cheeky bastard introduced himself. "Is a…" looking at his list, "…a 'Johnny D. Eville' here?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"You're gawking at him." I said, caustically.

"Oh, I meant utter respect. I promised." He lied, than held out his glossy, manicured claws. "Please to meet you!"

I made no movement and stared at him till he got the picture.

"Uh, okay. I'm doing a survey around this neighborhood and I would like a moment of your time to answer a few questions."

I smirked to myself, I could work with this. I suddenly smiled and put on my best welcoming face. "I'd love too! Please come in!"

The man's perfectly plastic face actually lit up. I'm guessing everywhere else turned him down.

He went to sit on the couch but noticed the stains. I assured him that it was just wine from a recent party and they have long dried.

"You must be an amicable social butterfly." He said, nervously as I pulled up a random crate I had been storing to sit on.

"Yeah. I have so many friends." I deceived but noticed by his pity smile that he didn't believe me neither. "So questions?"

"Oh yes! First, how long have you live here and is anyone with you?"

"Eighteen years and nope."

"No parents?"

I shook my head.

"Girlfriend?"

I cringe at that question but reluctantly said no.

"Alright then. This question is from Ghost Boy games, I'm asking this because I see by your game shirt that you're a fan. Do you believe violent games pose a danger to impressionable minds?" He asked.

"Fascinating question. Any pile of stunted growth unaware that entertainment is just that and nothing more, deserved to doom themselves to some dank cell for having been so stupid! Movies, books, television, music- they're all just entertainment, not guideline for damning yourself."

"Exquisite!" The man cheered, writing franticly. "These are fantastic answers! I got another but it's pretty weird. It comes from the New Haven newspaper. You might remember on the news that a girl was found dead last week. A very strange case because she seemed to be drained of all her blood. Police believe that the killer is into some sort of vampirism cult. Like he drinks his victim's blood! Gross! What do you think?"

My eyes widened and without thinking, I imprudently blurted out, "I DIDN'T DRINK HER BLOOD! I NEEDED IT FOR… NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"

And without farther thinking or questioning, I flanged the annoying man crashing out the window. Why can't I control myself?

To my surprise, a woman was standing on my porch, looking over at the lifeless realtor. But that wasn't what surprised me. It was the fact that she was completely unfazed with this act of inhumane. She looked at it as if it was an everyday thing. Which to me, it was but to the righteous world, it should at least spark some sort of reaction.

I cleared my throat to gain her attention as I rigged a nearby knife behind my back. "May I help you?"

She smiled then reached around to a wagon below.

I lunged at her, knife raised but stopped at the sight of a potted flower presented to me.

"Today is Flower Day," She informed, still undaunted by the now exposed weapon, "so I'm giving everyone in the neighborhood flowers. I thought you might appreciate this black tulip." Her voice was small but resounding.

Her ignorance, if that what it was, sickened yet intrigued me. Why was she not running?

Even _Devi _ran.

I lowered the blade and took the gift with confusion. "Uh, thanks."

She smiled again, this time, light dimples stood out on either side of her cheeks.

"I'm Mavis, by the way."

I hesitated before mumbling, "Nny."

"Interesting name." She nodded, then began she walked away, scrolling a wagon of a potted garden. "Have a good day."

Why am I letting her go?! She saw me kill someone?! But then again, there have been countless witnesses before… Plus she didn't seem to mind. Weird. New, huh? I haven't seen her around before so I guess she isn't a compulsive liar like most people in this city.

Her look disgusted me. That long brown hair and blue eyes. Those were pretty thou and I guess the dimples were okay, they made her face-

"WHAT AM I DOING?! Stop!" I screamed, hitting myself for even acknowledging her existence more than I have to.

I slammed the door, leaving the corpse in plain sight on the lawn. I leaned against the frame than slowly fell to the ground.

'What is this? A heart I see?'

I groaned loudly then glanced at the shiny weapon still in my grasp. I closed my eyes than smiled, "I need a slushie."

After cleaning up my mess of the day, I didn't end up leaving the house till 10:30pm.

"Great." I mumbled over my breath as I walked through the sliding doors of the neighborhood's Quickie Mart. It was deserted except for a paltry old man, sitting at the front counter. I ignored the dweller and rushed over the fruit goodness that was Cherry Fizz Blasts.

'CLOSED'.

The large sign hanged there, mockingly in front of my desires.

I sighed as I now had to acknowledge the cashier.

"Out of order?" I asked.

"Nah." He replied. "I turn it off after ten."

"Well, I'm sure I must be your first customer of the night, just a guess of course so do you mind just turning it back on? I'll even pay an extra dollar."

The man shook his head, "Can't. Store rules."

My eyes narrowed at the man's stubbornness. "I'll ask once more, sir. Please?"

The man, whose name tag read Bill, finally looked me in the eye, "Or what? Man, you're wacky. Just buy a cola and leave."

"Wacky?" I was appalled by this vague description. Without much of a thought, which happens a lot, I pulled a hand gun from my coat pocket and poked it between his eyes. "I HATE…that word." I said at first fiercely but calmed myself.

Bill's eyes bore fear and confusion, "It's just a slushie, man."

"And this is just a destructive device." I laughed as if he told a joke.

I blasted my music very obnoxiously, ignoring the world around me. I moaned to myself as the flavored ice ran down my throat. The streets were dark and bare, just the way I liked it.

Bright lights rushed past me as two ambulances pressed to make it on time to save a life.

"Too late." I smirked, finishing the drink.

I walked into the neighborhood a little later that night, and noticed a repeating factor happening on all the lawns. Each had a potted flower. Just like the one that was given to me.

I raised an eyebrow at this oddity.

I left the gift on the kitchen table just before I went to the store. I picked it up and prepared to throw it away but spotted a thin white paper attached to the pot itself.

"A flower cannot bloom without sunshine and a man cannot live without love. –Max Muller"

The famous quote was written neatly on the card.

I smiled at the gift and the note. Maybe there were other sensible people living in New Haven.

'You're sensible?'

I smiled, "In my own way."

Like? Hate? Wacky even?

I hope it wasn't too OOC but I feel like it was :/

Okay, if you might have noticed, I changed a few things. Only little things, like his age, dimmed down the out blurts. If you also noticed, i stole a few scenes from the actual comics but changed it to be not that gory, haha sorry. Also I didn't put in Nailbunny or the doughboys but who knows, I might continue this story and add them in.

But only if you want me too ;) heehee

Please Review! It makes me and Nny very happy(:


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